My Everything
by laproblematique
Summary: A short little one-shot of our favorite pair doing what they do best: dancing. No plot; just pointless, silly, fluffy trash for all you Delena fans out there to get your teeth into. Not set at any particular point in the series, just while they're together, obviously. Please read and give a review, if possible! All feedback is appreciated.


Her chestnut hair falls about her face messily, which is new. I don't mind, though. I've come to like the untamed style that occasionally frames her features—mainly in times of stress. It defines her character more than anything else in my opinion, and so whenever I see it, I know she's _her_.

She looks up at me, her gaze fixed on my face. Her bright eyes seem to hold back thousands of secrets that I wish I could discover - not by force, but out of her own free will.

My hand reaches out towards hers and she immediately rests her own in my palm. I glance down. Her tanned skin contrasts shockingly with my own sickly paleness, yet when it comes to the shape of her hand in mine, I couldn't ask for a better fit.

I close my fingers around her hand and take her waist gently, easing her upwards so she can stand on my feet like she always does when we dance. She steps up and rests her free hand on my shoulder and I begin to sway with her. It feels like it's been too long since we've had a moment like this; so serene, so pure, so perfect.

There's no music playing. We're simply dancing to the songs of our own minds, and staying in time with each beat of our hearts. The rhythm is slow, gentle, and merges with the surroundings so smoothly that it's as if she and I are the only two things in the world, trapped in a dream only a hair's breadth away from cold reality.

I take this time to admire her. She's clothed in a paper-white dress, which only seems to make her eyes sparkle more so like gems, and of course, her feet are hidden by her old, worn converse. This dance was spontaneous; I know she would have rushed to dress properly if I had told her otherwise.

The corner of my lip tugs upwards in a slight smile as I look them over, which causes her to shift her weight.

"Why are you smiling?" She asks me quietly, blinking innocently with a childlike curiosity. A tiny smile pulls at her own lips, but she fights it.

I shrug but don't lose the smile. "I'm just happy." I say in reply, and for what feels like the first time, there's no lie hidden behind the words.

She stares at me now. I don't blame her because she doesn't see me happy very often. Cocky, sure. Humoured, maybe. Not _happy_. Her expression seems intrigued, yet at the same time, confused. I chuckle at her, amused, and press a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes fall from being focused on my face and look at the ground instead.

"When was the last time we did this?" I ask out loud, though the question was meant to be kept to myself.

"I don't know," she answers meekly. Her voice cracks.

My firm hold on her stutters as I'm filled with a familiar sense of panic, worried that I've frightened her or done something to make her feel threatened. But as my hand immediately drops from her waist, she catches it and puts it back, holding it in place.

I don't know how to react. I watch her, numb, and she lifts her head to reveal tear-filled eyes.

It feels like a punch to the gut at first. I hear what seems to be the sound of glass breaking and the silent music stops. I've never been able to deal with seeing her cry. I've always been the cause of it. I don't know what I did this time, but I obviously did something...

"Elena—" I begin, but she cuts me off.

"I'm happy too," she says and wipes her eyes. "I'm just— I'm scared, Damon. I want to be here, to stay here, forever, but I can't. And you can't. And I'm worried, because I don't know how long it's going to last for, and I don't want it to end but it has to."

Fresh tears well up as I pull her against me and lightly hold her head against my chest. Something inside of me tightens at her words, because deep down, I have the same fear as her. "I promise I'm not going to go anywhere." I murmur to her, and her body heaves with another shaking sob. I sigh and she shakes her head.

"You will... I know you will at some point. You say you won't, but you will."

I look down at her and lift her chin. "Hey, listen," I whisper and turn her head so her ear is against the fabric of my shirt. "Can you hear that?"

Of course, there's no sound. How could there be? No, there isn't a heartbeat to reassure her. Instead, there's simply the noise of my quiet breathing, because this is the best I can do—and she knows that. I am a monster and nothing I ever do will be able to change that part of me; but I do as much as I can to prove to her that _she_ is my reason for fighting my demons and pushing away my darkness. _She_ is my reason for caging the beast that lies trapped within me. And _she_ will always be that reason.

Despite the silence, she nods and takes in a breath.

I tilt her head up to make her look at me again. "If I ever left, that would stop. Unintentionally. Without a second chance. And do you know why?" She stares at me and shakes her head. "Because the last three hundred or so years I've spent on this God-forsaken planet would be all for nothing." I say, and press my lips to the top of her head once more.

We stay like that for a while and the music starts again. After a long pause, she finally breathes out the words 'thank you' to me.

I tighten my arms around her again, hoping to offer her a feeling of warmth and protection. She repeats the words.

"Thank you."

"You're my everything."


End file.
